Captain Who?
by oncertwice
Summary: After shooting Belle, Hook has been cursed by Mr. Gold. He has no memories of his life in the navy, or as a pirate. Instead he has cursed memories, much like the citizens who lived under Regina's curse. The only person aware of his plight is Smee, who has been "taken care of." Now it's up to Emma to return Hook to his former self.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everybody! I'm so excited to say that I _finally _have another story for you lovely people! I'm really excited about this story, and I hope you lot enjoy it.

The idea for this fic was adapted from a prompt given to me by **Nouqueret**: _"What would happen if when Hook gets hit by the car wakes up in the hospital not as Hook but as Jones? He doesn't remember going to Neverland, his brother's death, being a pirate, Milah, not even Rumple or Regina? And the only one that can fill him in is Smee, who is God-knows-where because Rumple turned him into a rat. You can imagine his confusion when he finds he is missing a hand, and there is a name tattooed on his arm."_

I found this idea really interesting, and am excited to know what you lot think! This first chapter is just a short prologue to set the scene for you. Next chapter should be up later tonight or tomorrow. It's gonna be a lot longer.

So, please, read and review, but most of all, enjoy!

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Prologue

Smee dialed the number again, trying to fight the trembling in his fingers as he stood in the phone booth, trying for the umpteenth time to reach Sheriff Swan.

Answering machine again. He hung up, and redialed.

_"You've reached the sheriff's office, this is Emma Swan. Sorry to have missed your call, but I'm not at my desk right now. Please leave a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."_

Smee sighed exasperatedly, deciding this time to leave a message. "Sheriff Swan, this is William Smee. I have news regarding my Captain. In retaliation for his attack on Belle French, he has been cursed, his memories stolen by Mr.–" Smee felt a presence over his shoulder, and turned slowly to see none other than Mr. Gold staring at him menacingly while leaning on his cane. "Don't stop on my account, Mr. Smee. If there's something you'd like to tell the sheriff, then by all means, continue." Smee swallowed hard, turning his attention back to the phone before hanging it up, and leaving the phone booth.

"Hold it, not so fast. I can see that you are not to be trusted with my little secret. So, I have good news and bad news. The bad news, is that I no longer believe that you can keep your mouth shut. But this next part works out quite nicely for both of us: since you want to be a rat so badly, I am more than willing to oblige." Gold grabbed Smee by the collar and pulled him across the street.

"Please, Mr. Gold! Have pity!"

Gold laughed banefully as he walked closer to Smee, who had now backed himself into a corner. "Oh, no, Mr. Smee. I'm afraid that the time for pity is long gone. You opened your mouth and now you must face the consequences." Gold stared Smee down with eyes that showed nothing but malice and criminal intent.

Smee tried to move away, but found he had only backed himself into the brick wall of the alley in which Gold had trapped him. "Please, Mr. Gold. Give me another chance, I can keep your secret! I've changed my mind! I'll help you! Please, let me go. I beg of you! Let me go and I'll do anything you want! I'll–" Smee was cut off as he rose from the ground, shrouded by a cloud of purple smoke.

"Time's up, Mr. Smee. You had your chance, and you failed. Why should I trust anything you've got to say now?" Smee tried to call for help, but found he had no voice. That devious smile returned to Gold's face as he stifled a chuckle. "Did you really think I'd be a fool enough to let you keep your voice?" He laughed this time. "Ah, Mr. Smee. I will surely miss your sense of humor. Oh wait..." At that moment, all of the mirth disappeared from Gold's face as he stepped closer to Smee. "No, I wont." With a quick wave of his wrist, the cloud of smoke enveloped Smee completely. He returned to the ground, this time eye-level with the toe of Gold's shoe. Smee could hear Gold's satisfied laughter as he turned on his heels, cane clicking on the ground as he left.

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**I hope you're sufficiently intrigued! I'm already working on the next chapter, so while you're waiting on it, why not review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed! Here's chapter two! I know I said I'd have it up yesterday, but life took over for a little bit._**

**_PS, I hope you lot enjoyed your Valentine's Day, although in my personal opinion, buying Valentine's Day candy at clearance prices the next day is better than Valentine's Day itself. But maybe that's just me._**

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_Later that day..._

Emma stood over Hook's hospital bed. A whirlwind of emotions was wreaking havoc inside of her brain as she looked down at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful as he slept. So normal. As if there was no difference between him and any other man in town. Or on the planet, for that matter. But try as she might to ignore it, she knew that he wasn't just some regular guy. He was Captain Hook. Not only that, but now his life was surely in danger after having gone after the only person in town that Mr. Gold cared about: Belle.

He had finally gotten his revenge. And had been hit by a car not even a minute later. If Emma hadn't been a believer in karma before this, she definitely was now. She laughed to herself at the thought, and immediately felt remorseful for laughing at Hook's unfortunate (albeit deserved) situation. She wiped the smile from her face only a second before Dr. Whale walked into the room.

"Sheriff, I wasn't expecting to see you here." The look of mild surprise on Whale's face was not lost on Emma as she turned to address him. "So, what's the damage?" Whale crossed the room to stand opposite Emma on Hook's other side, lifting the pirate's eyelids to shine a light back and forth across his face. "There's been no substantial change since he was brought in last night, Sheriff. I've looked over his chart. His vitals appear normal at the moment. There is no real damage aside from his cracked ribs which should heal of their own accord, provided he abstains from any strenous activity." Whale returned his flashlight to the pocket of his coat, and appeared to be deep in thought.

"Whale, did you see something?" Emma asked, slightly confused by the tinge of worry that ran down her spine. Whale looked at her, and shook his head before opening his mouth. "I don't think so. His eyes reacted mostly normally to the light, but there was something in them... that I couldn't place. The response was not as timely as it could have been, but that should change once he comes back to himself." Whale picked up Hook's chart and scribbled something down before excusing himself and exiting the room, leaving Emma to her thoughts.

_Something in them that I couldn't place..._

Emma shook off the doctor's words, and left the room, meeting her parents, Ruby and Leroy in the Emergency Room lobby. Mary Margaret was the first to approach her. "So, what did Dr. Whale have to say?" She had a nervous edge to her voice that made Emma feel uneasy. Emma tucked her bangs behind her ear before she spoke. "Hook's vitals are normal, and he's got a few cracked ribs. His eyes are slightly under-responsive, but Whale says he'll be fine. What we need to focus on is keeping Gold at bay. He's not going to want to stay away, and we can't let him take advantage of Hook while he's defenseless." Emma walked past the four of them toward the bright morning light that had settled around the hospital. David reached for her, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. "Wait, Emma. Where are you going?"

She turned to face him before she spoke. "I've been getting calls from William Smee. He says he's got something to tell me." David groaned and gave Emma an incredulous look. She could already tell what he was thinking. "Okay, David. Let me stop you right there. Sure, he's a bit of a troublemaker, but he might actually need help, or something. Besides, I could really use a distraction from all of this." Emma drew a small circle in the air in front of her as she spoke that last word. David sighed, releasing her as she abruptly turned, leaving the hospital.

She made her way to the docks, where Smee had insisted they meet. After about fifteen minutes, Emma looked at the clock on her phone. Her frustration was beginning to build, but she willed herself to be patient. After all, maybe he was just running late. She decided she'd give Smee thirty minutes, and if he didn't show, then he'd have to face the consequences. She sat down, staring out at the water. She let her mind wander as she thought about Henry, about her parents, and eventually she thought about Hook, still wondering what had her so worried about a man who had proven himself to be the very definition of untrustworthy. Before Emma realized it, she'd been waiting a whole hour. She finally decided to leave when her cell phone started to ring. She snapped out of her reverie as she pulled the phone from her pocket. She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she answered it.

"What's up, David?" David heard the curt tone in Emma's voice and wondered what had her so on-edge. Knowing how she could get when she was angry, he hoped it had nothing to do with him. "How's that talk with Smee going? Learn anything new?" Emma snorted at David's words as she rose from her seated position. "I wish. He didn't even bother to show up." David sighed. "I told you not to waste your time, Emma. If he didn't show up, why aren't you back here yet?" She groaned inwardly as she made her way up the dock. "I don't know. I was waiting for him to get here, and then I started to think. Honestly, I didn't realize I'd been gone so long. But I'm on my way back now. See you in ten minutes." Before David could ask her what she'd been thinking about, she hung up the phone, putting it back into her pocket and walking briskly in the direction from which she'd come.

* * *

After checking on Hook for what felt like the millionth time (she _really_ had to get that under control), Emma left the hospital and made her way to the sheriff's station. She hung up her coat and sat down at the desk in her office before deciding to check her messages for the day. She listened to the first few somewhat absentmindedly before she heard something that really caught her attention.

_"Sheriff Swan, this is William Smee. I have news regarding my Captain. In retaliation for his attack on Belle French, he has been cursed, his memories stolen by Mr.–" _Emma could just barely make out a muffled exchange in the background of the message, followed by a few seconds of silence. After a total of about twenty seconds, the message cut off.

Hearing the message that was clearly cut short, Emma's breath caught in her throat as she tried to wrap her brain around the information that she'd just received. Her breathing started to pick up, and she palmed her pockets frantically, feeling for her cell phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and dialed with shaky fingers. After a few rings, David answered. "Hello?" Emma opened her mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat; the sound that escaped her lips sounded more like a panicked grunt. David heard Emma panting on the other line and he immediately knew something was amiss. "Emma? Hello? What's the matter, is something wrong?" She cleared her throat, which at some point had gone dry. "David. I need you at the station. Now."

About ten minutes later, David came bounding into her office, breathing heavily. A small part of her wondered if he'd run the whole way there. He walked further in, still panting as he spoke. "Emma, don't keep me in suspense. What's got you so worked up?" She motioned to the seat in front of her desk, and David sat down. He was poised on the edge of his seat, waiting to hear what she had to say. "I may have just learned why Smee stood me up today." She put the office phone on speaker and pushed it toward David so he could hear the message clearly. Emma watched his face as he listen to Smee's frantic and hurried words. After the message ended, David leaned his elbows on Emma's desk, and put his head in his hands. "Great. This is just _great_. I was honestly beginning to wonder if this situation could get any worse." David leaned back in his chair and looked at Emma, whose worried expression still hadn't changed. "Alright, Sheriff. What's our next move?" Emma let out a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding. "I say we see if there's any truth in Smee's words. Let's go back to the hospital. We can call Regina on the way."

Emma and David had been sitting outside of Hook's room for around twenty minutes when Regina finally showed up. Both Emma and David rose from their seats as she approached them. "Miss Swan, I do not appreciate being pulled away from my home with such short notice. You had better have a reasonable explanation for this, or there will be a price to pay." Emma rolled her eyes at the mayor's theatrics. "Please, Regina, not now. David and I, we need your help." Regina looked from Emma to David and back. "With what, pray tell?" Emma sighed and cleared her throat before speaking in a hushed and level tone. "I received a message today. Long story short, I need you to help me determine whether or not Hook has been cursed."

Regina's eyebrows raised at Emma's words. "What exactly is in this for me?" Emma's patience was beginning to wear thin as she gave Regina a pleading look. "Please, Regina. Just help us this once." Regina rolled her eyes at Emma and walked past her into Hook's room. "Move aside, please." Emma and David followed Regina into Hook's room and shut the door behind them. Regina held her hands out over Hook's still-unconscious form. Her hands glowed softly as she moved them from his head to his feet. She stepped back, and turned to Emma with an apologetic look on her face. "Whoever left you that message was right, Miss Swan. There is magic at play here." Emma groaned as she covered her face with her hands. "God, no. Why? What are we even supposed to do now?" She walked closer to Regina and looked her in the face. "Do you know what kind of curse it is? Can you find out?" Regina shook her head softly before speaking. "I can't think of any method I could use to figure that out. Did Whale say that anything was out of the ordinary as far as his health is concerned?"

Emma wracked her brain trying to remember her earlier exchange with the doctor. "Uh, no, I don't think so." She could feel a panic rising in her chest as she was running out of ideas. David spoke up next. "Emma, didn't you mention that Whale said something about Hook's eyes?" Emma's eyes widened as she turned to Regina. "Could that be something? Whale said that Hook's eyes didn't respond normally to outside stimuli." Regina turned back to Hook. She placed her hand on his forehead and lifted his eyelid with her thumb. She looked into his eyes for what felt like an eternity before Emma spoke up. "Well, do you see anything?"

Regina turned back to Emma and David, her eyebrows creased together. "He has definitely been cursed. It's not something that would be easily picked up on unless one has had considerable experience with magic. But it's unmistakeable. The curse that was used is similar to the curse I placed on this town. When he wakes up, he won't have any memories of his life. He _will_ wake up, and he'll recognize all of us. However, he'll only know us as his neighbors. We may even find that he's been somewhat written into the original curse. But there's no way to be sure of that until you can talk to him. And before you ask me: I don't know how to break it. That will be something that you'll have to figure out on your own." Emma sat in a chair in the corner of the room, slouched over with her head in her hands. "Why is this happening? How are we supposed to help him?" David crossed the room and kneeled in front of her, and put his hand on her shoulder. "Emma, you have to keep it together. We can't help him unless we stay level-headed." She picked her head up and ran her fingers through her hair. "Okay. You're right. Let's go. But I think we should meet back here tomorrow morning, alright? You too, Regina."

* * *

Lying on his back, Killian felt nothing but searing pain, and intense pressure. He opened his eyes slowly, to see he was blanketed by a bright light, hushed voices whispering around him.

"Did he just move?"

"I think he just moved."

"Is he waking up?"

"I dunno, would you guys stop talking for a second?"

He wondered to himself why there was an audience in his room, as his eyes came into focus on the ceiling tiles above his bed. He realized then that he was not at home. Was he in the hospital? He moved his head, and saw that there were five people standing a few feet away from his bed. He looked over their faces, and he recognized them all. Closest to him was Sheriff Emma, and her deputy David Nolan. His waking up had apparently interrupted a conversation they'd been having with Mary Margaret Blanchard, Mayor Mills and the mayor's son, Henry.

He locked eyes with Emma, and he noticed that her expression softened when she met his gaze. "Uh, Mary Margaret, Why don't you take Henry down to the cafeteria or something?" Mary Margaret nodded, and took Henry by the shoulders, leading him out of the room. Sheriff Emma moved closer to his bed, and sat lightly on the edge. "How are you feeling?" How was he feeling? He was in complete pain, and hadn't the slightest idea as to how he'd gotten into this state. "I've seen better days, however I've seen plenty worse." Emma snorted at his nonchalance and stood by his bed, never breaking eye contact. "I'm going to ask you some questions now. You just try your best to answer them, as stupid as they may seem. Deal?" Killian smiled softly and nodded. "Deal."

"Okay. What's your name?"

"My name is Killian Jones."

"Alright. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, you are Sheriff Emma Swan."

"Right. Um, Where do you live?"

"I rent a room from Granny."

Hearing his last response, Emma exchanged looks with David and Regina before returning her gaze to Killian. "Alright. What do you do for work?" Killian shifted in his bed, wincing at the pain. "Now that, I don't remember." He looked at her and gave a noncommittal shrug. "Three out of four ain't bad, I guess." He tried to move into a sitting position, but gave up halfway through. "Now, I've got a question for you, Sheriff." Emma put her hands on her hips and knitted her brow at him. "And what would that be?" Killian looked her up and down before leaning a bit closer and opening his mouth. "Come here often?"

Emma groaned inwardly and rolled her eyes. "_Nice to know his personality hasn't changed," _She thought to herself. Before she could give him a sassy retort, he spoke again. "Just a small joke, Sheriff. I couldn't resist." Emma tucked her bangs behind her ear and folded her arms across her chest. "Do you have a real question, or do you wanna keep using this time to test out your awful pickup lines?"

Killian laughed, although it hurt immensely. "My real question, Sheriff, is why am I here? What happened to me?" Once again, Emma's face softened and she resumed her seat on the edge of his bed. "You were hit by a car, Killian. You have a few cracked ribs, but Dr. Whale says you're going to make a full recovery. You just have to stay away from any kind of physical activity." Emma studied his face for a moment. He didn't seem surprised or bothered by anything that she'd just said, and that made her wonder. "Do you have any other questions, Killian?" He looked at her, and shook his head slowly. "No, Sheriff. I don't. Thank you for filling me in." Emma nodded and rose from his bed. She walked over to a chair in the corner of the room and picked up her coat. She put it on before turning back to him. "You're welcome, Killian." She followed David and Regina to the door, but looked back at him before going through it. "You should be released in a few days. If you need anything, just call me at the station, alright?"

Killian smiled politely at Emma before she turned away from him. She left his room and pulled the door in behind her, leaving Killian to his thoughts. Well, there was really only one thing on his mind: getting the hell out of this place.

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**Phew! So, our S****leeping Beauty has awakened–– see you all next chapter!**

**Have I ever mentioned how much I like reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Alrighty, here we go! Thanks again to those who read and reviewed. I _****love ****_hearing you guys' reactions and your ideas in terms of where you think the story's going to go, or what you're looking forward to reading. So, keep it up!_**

**_Okay, alright. ~Rant over.~_**

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It had been around three days after Killian had woken up that he was finally able to be discharged from the hospital. He knew that he should have been excited, especially since this is what he'd been waiting for, but there was a small part of him that wasn't looking forward to going home. Back to his little apartment, alone.

He roused himself from his thoughts and tried to think of somebody that he could call for help with the transition. Killian had always considered himself to be something of a hermit, only speaking to his neighbors in passing, never looking beyond his own personal bubble. He preferred to be alone. Not that anyone had ever given him the option not to be. His mind wandered back to the exchange he'd shared with the sheriff only a few days ago.

_"If you need anything, just call me at the station, alright?"_

Killian thought about Emma for a few seconds before he felt the corners of his mouth threatening to turn upwards into a _smile_. He groaned inwardly and scolded himself. _"She was only being polite. She's the sodding _sheriff_, it's her job to make nice with you."_ He rolled his eyes at his inner monologue and looked over the walls in his room. His eyes fell on a phone in the corner, and he decided to take her up on her offer. Killian tried to get up as slowly as possible, though the searing pain he'd felt earlier was now reduced to a dull ache. He hugged himself as he stood upright, making his way over to the phone. He held the receiver in his hand for a moment, trying to recall the number for the sheriff's station. He wracked his brain for a minute or two until he remembered it. He dialed quickly, wanting nothing more than to lie back down as soon as possible.

After three short rings, he heard Sheriff Emma's voice on the other line. "Hello, this is the sheriff's office, Emma Swan here." He fought the smile that tried to sneak its way onto his lips at the sound of her voice. _Really, Killian, what has gotten into you, mate? _He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Good morning, Sheriff. This is Killian Jones."

Emma felt a warm tingle in the pit of her stomach at the sound of his voice. She tried to keep her tone professional in spite of it. "Good morning, Mr. Jones. How can I help you?" Killian cocked his head to the side. "Oh, it's 'Mr. Jones' now, is it? I don't recall you being so formal with me when you were sitting on my bed." Emma groaned, and he chuckled at her frustration. "Did you call me for a reason, or did you just want to flirt back and forth over the phone?" Killian tried, and failed, not to laugh as he added a teasing lilt to his voice. "Back and forth, Sheriff? Wouldn't that require you to flirt back?" She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Not gonna happen, pal." He chuckled again. "So now it's 'pal?' You really ought to pick a name and stick to it, love." He noticed the laid back (maybe even flirtatious?) tone in his voice and he instantly wanted to slap himself. _This is the bloody sheriff, Killian. Pull yourself together! _Without giving her a chance to continue their banter any further, he decided to cut to the chase. "Sheriff, I am being discharged from the hospital today. However, I don't have anything to wear home." Killian had to fight the voice inside of his head that was telling him to add an innuendo or saucy comment onto his statement. He won. This time, at least.

Emma listened to him speak and tried to focus on what he was saying, silencing the stirrings in her brain that willed her to picture him without clothes on. _Dammit, Emma. Pay attention. _She spoke after she realized that he'd stopped talking, waiting for her to reply. "And where do I come into this situation?" Killian wondered what she'd been thinking about, but brushed the thought aside as he spoke again. "I need for you to go to my apartment and get me some clothes, if it's not too much trouble. Just go to Granny, and ask to be let into my place. She should have a key or something. All I need is a shirt, pants, and shoes. And a jacket. And some underwear."

Emma nearly choked on the coffee that she'd been sipping. "Underwear, Jones? Really?" Killian tried not to laugh at Emma's discomfort. "I can't exactly go walking around without it, can I? Well, I mean, I most certainly _could_, if that's what you'd prefer..." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she spoke. _More mental pictures, great!_ "I will talk to Granny. I will get you your clothes. I will attempt to get you your underwear. I do not want to be fumbling around in your drawers." It took Killian's snickering on the other end for her to realize what she'd said. She groaned and smacked her palm into her forehead. "Come on, Jones. You're making it really har— uh, _difficult_ for me to want to help you." He sighed contentedly and wiped away the few tears that began to form in the corners of his eyes. "Oh, lighten up, Sheriff. This is probably the closest thing to fun you're gonna have all week." Emma couldn't deny the truth in his words, but was not about to let him win. "Whatever you say, Jones. What time should I meet you at the hospital?" Killian craned his neck to get a good look at the clock on the wall. It was 9:32. "Uh, I dunno. I've not got anywhere to be. What time works for you?" Emma looked at her watch. "How about noon?" She wrote herself a short note and placed it on her desk. Killian thought for a moment before responding. "That sounds alright." He let his voice drop at least an octave before he spoke again. "It's a date." Emma rolled her eyes. "It is _not_ a date." Before he had a chance to reply, she hung up the phone.

* * *

When 11:00 rolled around, Emma rose from her desk and made her way out of the station. She walked in the direction of Granny's Inn, wondering what she'd find.

She walked into the inn, and saw Granny standing at the counter. "Hey, Granny. I've gotta ask you something strange, and I just need you to go with it, okay?" Granny gave Emma a skeptical look, but decided to play along. "Alright Sheriff. Shoot." Emma sighed and then leveled her shoulders before speaking. "Could you let me into Killian Jones' room?" Granny knitted her brow, and stepped slightly closer to Emma. "Who? I don't think I've got anyone by that name staying here." It was just as Emma feared. How was she going to get his clothes if he didn't actually have a room? And even worse, where was he supposed to live? "Killian Jones, Granny. Captain Hook?" Granny shook her head. "Sorry, Sheriff. Can't help you." After finishing her statement, Granny put a large book down on the counter and turned away, looking through files of paperwork.

Emma leaned her elbows on the counter and sighed, before the book caught her attention. "What's this book, Granny?" Granny turned, looking at the mass of papers on the counter. "That? That's just my guestbook." Emma got an idea and pulled the book closer to her. "Mind if I take a look?" Granny shrugged, not turning around this time, as she replied. "Knock yourself out. I'll be right back." Granny rounded the counter and walked off behind Emma. Emma opened the book and started to look through what looked less like a guestbook and more like a registry of Granny's tenants. The older woman had kept track of her tenants, which apartment they occupied, dates on which the rent was due, dates on which the rent was paid, and the date they had moved out (if at all).

Emma looked through the more recent names, until she came across the one she was both hoping and dreading to find. _Killian Jones_ was scribbled in Granny's hasty penmanship over one of the many dotted lines. "Of course." Emma grumbled to herself and looked around for Granny, but she hadn't yet returned from wherever she'd scurried off to. "Hey, Granny? Could you come out here, please?" Emma called, trying to keep her voice level. Granny appeared after only a few moments. "What is it, Sheriff?" Emma tucked her bangs behind her ear and pointed at the offending name in the book. "Killian Jones is in your guestbook, Granny. Do you remember writing this here?" Granny pulled the book closer to herself before looking down at it through the glasses that always sat on the tip of her nose.

"Well, I'll be damned. I guess I forgot..." Granny looked at the book again, sliding her finger across the line to see which room Killian was currently occupying. She went around the counter and pulled out a box, setting it down on the counter as its contents made a jingling sound. She opened it, and Emma saw that it was a box full of keys, probably one for every apartment. Granny sifted through the keys, and found the one that she'd been looking for. "Here you go, Sheriff, you're looking for apartment 2C. Try this key. If it doesn't fit, just bring it back to me and we can try another one." With slightly trembling hands, Emma took the key from Granny and turned toward the stairs, decidedly not looking forward to finding Killian's apartment. She turned back slightly to look once more at the older woman. "Thanks, Granny."

After she reached the top of the stairs, she looked carefully at the door to each apartment looking for the number that Granny told her belonged to Killian. When she'd found it, she lifted the key to the lock, hoping that it would fit but also that it wouldn't at the same time. She stood frozen for a few minutes, trying to gather her wits. "Come on, Emma," she spoke softly to herself. "Just do it." With that, she pushed the key into the lock and turned it, the door opening as she pushed slowly into the room.

Emma stepped over the threshold and looked about the apartment warily. It didn't _look_ like the room of a cursed guy. It looked... normal? Of course it was normal. What had she been expecting? A flashing neon sign? She walked further into the room, taking in her surroundings. She apartment wasn't too big, but it wasn't small by any means. Closest to her was the kitchen, which wasn't much more than a stove, an island, a fridge, some cabinets, and a counter with a sink. It reminded her of her own kitchen. There was also an open living room with a couch, a coffee table and a TV. Just beyond the living room were two closed doors, which Emma assumed belonged to the bedroom and the bathroom. She exhaled, not realizing that she'd been holding her breath and made her way to Killian's bedroom.

Emma decided to try the door closest to her first, which was actually the bathroom. It had a small window over the shower and a mirrored medicine cabinet over the sink. She ducked out of the room and went for the other door. She opened it, and for some reason was surprised. The room was neat and organized— it even smelled like him. How was that remotely possible? He'd never even spent a night there. She shrugged and looked over the room itself. It was a decent size, and its walls were painted a serene shade of blue. Over on the far side of the room was a Queen-sized bed, fully made with a black comforter and two pillows on each side. There was also a nightstand on either side of the bed. She made her way over to the closet. She opened it, and found shirts and pants hung in an orderly fashion. She pulled down a gray henley and a pair of dark jeans. On the floor of the closet, around ten pairs of shoes sat neatly. She looked at them, and decided to go with a pair of black Chuck Taylors. She found a duffel bag on the floor in his closet and put the shoes and clothes into it. She then crossed the room to his dreaded chest of drawers. She opened the second drawer, and found that it was full of socks. She grabbed a pair and threw them into the bag. She turned back to the chest, this time going one drawer down, and found this drawer contained neatly folded pairs of boxer briefs. She tried not to linger in the drawer too long, picking a gray pair and tossing them quickly into the pile. Emma shuddered as she abruptly closed the drawer and zipped up the bag. On her way out of the apartment, she grabbed a leather jacket that had been hanging on the coat rack by the door.

* * *

Killian had been watching the clock since noon, and it was now 12:09. He didn't know why he was suddenly so concerned with punctuality, but hoped it had less to do with seeing Emma, and more to do with his dire need to be released from this hellhole. He had closed his eyes now, hoping that tearing his gaze away from the clock might somehow speed up time. After a few more minutes of waiting, He heard the door to his room open, and in came Sheriff Emma, holding a bag that he recognized as his own. "It's after 12:00, Sheriff. You are late, and that is very bad form." Emma rolled her eyes as she crossed the room and placed the duffel bag on the bed by Killian's feet. "Yeah. A simple 'thank you' works just as well."

He sat up, groaning at the change in position. He motioned for her to give him the bag, and she placed it in his lap. "Thank you, Sheriff. I owe you one." Emma nodded before she spoke. "You definitely do. Especially after making me go into your underwear drawer." Killian chuckled and unzipped the bag. He took out the outfit she'd chosen for him, and laid it on the bed. After he'd removed everything from the bag, he looked at her. "Uh, Sheriff, this is the part where I... you know, disrobe?" Emma looked at him blankly for a second before her eyes widened. "Oh! Sorry. I'll be out in the hall." Killian stood from the bed and turned to her. "Noted."

After about ten minutes, Killian joined Emma in the hall outside of his room. Emma looked him up and down, this being the first time that she'd seen him in anything other than his pirate garb. She had to give it to him, though: he wore the outfit _very_ well. The jeans hung low on his hips, and he left the buttons on the henley undone, of course, which gave Emma an excellent view of his chest. The leather jacket he wore tied the look together perfectly, but she wasn't surprised by that. Leather had always looked good on him. She had apparently been looking at him for a few seconds too long, because when her eyes made their way back to Killian's face, he was giving her an amused look. He raised an eyebrow. "Enjoying the view, Sheriff?" Emma was taken aback by the tone in his voice and scrambled to think of something to say. "What? I uh, I was just—" She was cut off by Killian's laughter as he stepped closer to her. "Tell you what, Sheriff. You don't have to explain yourself to me, but we both know what you were thinking. If you want, I'll walk in front of you. I've been told that these pants do amazing things for my arse."

Emma was at a loss for words as she followed him to the front desk, fighting with all her might to keep her eyes trained on the back of his head. Once he signed his release forms, he was pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair, with Emma walking closely behind. Once they'd left the hospital, Emma walked Killian over to her bug, and opened the passenger door for him. "What's this, Sheriff?" Emma sighed. "I can't let you walk back to your apartment with cracked ribs, Jones. Just get in." He shrugged, and gingerly sat down, lifting his legs into the car slowly before Emma slammed the door and walked over to the driver's side. She threw herself into the car and started the ignition before putting on her seatbelt. The ride to Granny's was silent as Killian stared out the window at the town. He saw Dr. Hopper walking Pongo, he saw Moe French unloading flowers from his truck, and he saw Mr. Gold standing in front of his pawn shop. Something about that man gave him a very bad feeling. He couldn't tell what exactly it was about him, but he knew that given the choice, he would face off with a hungry lion sooner than he would Mr. Gold.

When they reached the inn, Sheriff Emma parked and turned off the ignition before hopping out and running around to help him out of the car. She extended her hand and he took it, turning his legs to the ground and standing slowly. Emma noticed the tightness in his face and wondered how much pain he was in. "You alright?" He grunted in response. "How's your pain? One to ten." He groaned as he stood upright. "Let's say seven." She sighed and reached behind them to slam the car door, but bumped him with her shoulder in the process, earning a low growl from him. "I think we can make that an eight, now, love." Emma grimaced as she realized her folly. "Sorry, Killian. Let's get you inside." He gave a labored sigh and motioned for her to lead the way. She helped him up the stairs, his arm around her shoulders and her arm wrapped carefully around his waist.

When they reached his apartment, Emma pulled Granny's spare key from her pocket and unlocked the door. She helped him over the threshold, and led him into his room. She helped him sit down on his bed and smiled when he groaned appreciatively. She prepared to leave, but was stopped when she heard him call to her. "Hold on, Sheriff. I've one question before you go." Emma turned slowly, and looked him in the eye. "Okay, but you better not ask me if I come here often because I swear I will—"

"What happened to my hand?"

Emma felt her lungs deflate as she heard his question. "Wh-what?"

Killian sighed, laying back on his pillows. "My hand, Sheriff. What happened to it?" Emma sighed, and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Well, I don't know for sure. I'd always just assumed that you'd had some sort of accident? Maybe when you were a kid or something? I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to tell you." At some point, she'd torn her gaze away from his and was staring a hole into the wall across from her.

They sat in silence for a minute until Emma could feel the bed trembling slightly. _Oh great. Now I've made him cry. What the hell am I supposed to do now?_ Emma was brought out of her thoughts when Killian erupted with laughter. She whipped her head around so fast, she was sure she'd just given herself whiplash. She was now starting to worry for his sanity. "What the hell is wrong with you? You learn that you've lost a hand and your first instinct is to laugh hysterically?" She got up from the bed and walked toward the door until, again, she was stopped by his voice. "Wait, Sheriff. You've misunderstood me. I wasn't asking for my literal _hand_. That's been gone for years. I was referring to my prosthesis."

"Your _what_?"

Killian sighed wiping at his eyes. "My fake hand, Sheriff. I rarely leave the house without it, and I can't help but notice that it's not in place." He waved his stump limply before returning it to his side on the bed. Emma covered her face with her hands and then sighed with both relief and frustration. "Dammit, Jones. Would it have killed you to to be a little more specific?" He suppressed an oncoming wave of laughter, and tried to play it off by clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. Next time. Now, have you seen my hand?" Emma sighed, she already knew that the answer was no. "No, Jones. I have not." He mumbled inaudibly before pointing to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. "I keep a spare in that nightstand, would you fetch it for me, love?" Emma walked over to the nightstand, partially expecting there to be nothing inside, but (she thought for the fiftieth time) she really needed to stop doubting him. In the drawer was a fake hand with a hollow wrist and partial forearm. She picked it up and walked it over to him, placing it in his hand.

"Will that be all, Your Majesty?" She asked him sarcastically, earning a smile from the man. "Yes, His Highness is satisfied for the day. Be gone." She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat as she turned on her heels and went for the door. But, of course, she was stalled by his voice. "One last thing, Sheriff." Emma sighed softly and turned only her head to let him know he had her attention.

"Thank you for everything."

* * *

_**There you have it, folks! Thanks again for reading and if you've got something to say, review!**_

_**Also, I would like to know what you lot think about the whole "hand" situation. Do you think I handled it okay? (That sounds like a pun.) But really, let me know! I decided to go this route, because it would have felt weird to me if he literally forgot how he lost his hand. Old memories get replaced with cursed ones, right? I also thought that this would be funny. It's easier for me to write Humor than Angst, not gonna lie.**_

_**Alright, that's enough outta me. See you next chapter!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi again! I just wanted to tell you guys that I'm _loving_ the responses that I'm getting to this story, so please, keep it up!**

**CherryMountain:**** You actually raised some questions that I hadn't even fully considered, but will definitely be making their way into this story. And also, THANK YOU!**

**Nouqueret:**** I'm still not ****_sure_**** about Neal, but I definitely have a few ideas about him! Guess we'll just have to wait and see what develops. *Mysterious music plays***

**Once again, if you lot have anything you want to say about the story, or if there's a suggestion that you have, just tell me! As far as I'm concerned, there's no point in even writing the story if the people reading it don't enjoy it. So, being an active participant helps both of us. Don't be shy!**

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Killian awoke slowly to the sound of his alarm clock. He reached out for it, sighing contentedly when he'd stopped its blaring siren. He rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly, relieved to find that the pain in his ribs was almost nonexistent. In the days since he'd been released from the hospital, he'd fallen back into his daily routine: wake up at 7:00, get showered and dressed, then go to Granny's Diner for coffee. He found that that left the rest of his day open, but he figured that was probably the time he'd once used to go to work.

_Work._

"I've got to get a job." Killian said to himself under his breath as he rose from the bed and walked off in the direction of the bathroom. He wasn't really sure if he had any skills, but he knew that Granny wouldn't keep letting him slide with the rent forever. He turned on the shower and decided to brush his teeth while he waited for it to warm up.

After dressing, he left his apartment for the diner. Recently, he'd found that his neighbors and other townsfolk had been acting differently toward him. When he would walk near them on the street, they'd avoid his gaze. A few of them even went so far as to turn the other way when they saw him coming. He couldn't remember what, if anything, he had done to deserve being ostracized, but he tried not to focus on it. All it did was serve as a reminder of why he preferred to be alone. The only people in town who treated like him an actual human being were Granny (bless her heart, the poor woman had to put up with him more than anybody else), Ruby, Sheirff Emma, and, for some reason, the mayor's boy, Henry.

Killian walked into Granny's Diner and approached the same stool he occupied everyday. He was greeted cheerfully by Ruby, who was wiping down the bar. "Good morning, Killian. Sleep well?" He sat down, expecting his ribs to flare up, but was reminded of their healing state when he felt next to nothing. He smiled. "Well enough, I suppose." Ruby made a pouty face at him that seemed to say "poor baby," as she grabbed a mug and saucer from behind the counter and poured Killian some coffee. "Well, this oughta help a little bit." She said as she poured slowly, filling his mug to the brim. "Think you'll want anything to eat today?" Killian scrunched up his nose as he brought the mug to his lips. "Not sure. Get back to me on that." Ruby chuckled softly before turning away. "Whatever you say, Killian. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He sat in silence for a little while before the bell over the door rang. He looked over to see who'd just arrived, and a smile crossed his face when he saw that it was Henry Mills. Henry saw him and crossed the diner to take a seat next to his new friend. "Hi, Mr. Jones!" Killian smiled, although the boy's formality made him a hair uncomfortable. "Please, lad. Killian." Henry shrugged and hopped up onto the stool on Killian's right side. "Okay, how's it going, Killian?" Killian smiled again at the ever-present cheer in the boy's voice. It was like he'd never known any unpleasantry in his life. "I'm quite alright. Ribs are healing nicely, thank you for asking." He replied with a slight bow of his head. Henry studied Killian's face for a moment, as if there were something he wanted to say. "Well, I think I have something that can help you."

After a brief moment of silence, Henry turned away to dig something out of his backpack. What he brought out of it took Killian completely by surprise. "What is _that_?" Henry smiled at Killian's puzzled expression and pushed the book closer to the man. "This, is my storybook. It's a book of fairytales, and I want to loan it to you. It was given to me by my gr—" He paused. "by my teacher, Ms. Blanchard?" Killian noticed the question in Henry's voice; he was waiting to see if Killian was following along. "Aye, lad. Mary Margaret Blanchard." Henry smiled. "Yes, her. When she gave me this book, she told me that fairytales are a reminder that our lives will get better, if we just hold on to hope."

Killian looked from Henry to the book, and back again. "What makes you think that I'm in such desperate need of hope, Henry?" Henry's expression changed. A solemn look—perhaps worry?— crossed his features. He sat back on his stool with a sigh before he answered Killian's question. "Because I used to feel like you do now. You know that this is your home, but you feel like an outsider. Like nobody really understands you or cares about you." Killian was at a complete loss for words. How could Henry have known everything that he was feeling just by looking at him? "Henry, I... I don't know what to say." He replied, shaking his head softly. Henry smiled at him, and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You don't really have to say anything, Killian. Just know that if you need somebody to talk to, I'm available. As long as it's not past my bedtime." Henry giggled and Killian felt a strange warmth creeping into the pit of his stomach. The boy was a lot wiser than his age would have you believe. Killian smiled at him, and nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Henry."

* * *

Emma had been dreading this day all week. It was the day that she finally had to talk to Gold about Smee's disappearance. She wasn't sure what she would find, but she was positive that Gold would have a list of excuses and alibis a mile long.

She pushed through the door to his shop, as the bell rang cheerfully overhead. Gold didn't even look up from the piece he was polishing— it appeared to be a golden lamp— when she walked up to him. "Ah, Sheriff Swan. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Emma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "That's enough, Gold. I'm here to ask you a few questions." Mr. Gold's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, although the cheery tone never left his voice. "Then, by all means, Sheriff, proceed."

Emma took a few steps closer to him until she was standing with her palms against the counter that separated them. "Where were you on Tuesday last week?"

Without missing a beat, Gold replied confidently, "I was here."

Emma honestly had no solid evidence that he hadn't been in his shop all day, but she knew that he was lying. "Do you know a man by the name of William Smee?"

Gold furrowed his brow, as if trying to remember. He repeated the name under his breath, as if trying to convince Emma that he was deep in thought. "Smee, Smee, Smee. Isn't he one of the crewmen of that _insufferable_ pirate?"

Emma's patience was wearing dangerously thin as she tried to keep her voice calm and level. "You know damned well who he is, and I'd like to know what you did with him."

Gold raised his eyebrows, feigning insult at the sheriff's words. "What I did with him? Really, Sheriff? What makes you so sure that I did anything to him at all?"

The mocking tone in Gold's voice was surely testing the strength of Emma's last nerve. She inhaled deeply before responding. "Honestly, Gold? Nothing. All I've got is the facts. One: Smee hasn't been seen for several days. Two: I have reason to believe that you were the last person in contact with him. Three: your... girlfriend, is in the hospital, with no memory of you after having been shot by a certain _insufferable pirate_. Four: you don't really strike me as the forgive-and-forget type. So, what did Smee have on you that forced you to get him out of your way? Maybe he knew that you are the one who cursed Hook? How did you do it, Gold? How did you get in and out of that room without anyone seeing you?"

Gold stiffened, and his change in attitude told Emma what she needed to know.

"Wait. Maybe someone _did_ see you. Someone who tried to warn me over the phone before you caught up to him and made him disappear."

The confidence returned to Gold's voice as he spoke for the first time in minutes. "Sheriff, I'm afraid that I have no idea what you're talking about." Emma sighed, and stood upright before walking around the counter. "Mr. Gold, you are under arrest for your involvement in the disappearance of William Smee." Gold didn't even attempt to put up a fight as Emma cuffed him, and led him into her squad car, which was parked in front of his shop.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me, David! I can't let him go! You know just as well as I do that he's guilty!" Emma could no longer control the timbre of her voice, its pitch going erratic as she began to yell at her father. She led him into her office, and forcefully closed the door behind her. "Are we really about to just let him get away with this?" Emma's eyes were wild, searching his face for answers.

David sighed heavily, as if the words he was about to speak were putting him in physical pain. "Emma." He reached out to her, putting his hands on her upper arms and squeezing gently in an attempt to calm her down. "We have to think about this rationally and objectively. Do I believe that Gold is innocent? Of course not. But we don't have enough tangible evidence to keep him here without violating his rights."

Emma shook her head vehemently, clearly choosing not to hear the reason in David's words. "No. I can't let him go, David. We can't just let him get off scot-free. It's not _right_." Her voice wavered as she spoke, and David could tell that she was approaching her breaking point. He sighed and pulled her in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I know, Emma. I know. But until we have more solid proof, there's nothing that we can do." Emma rested her head on David's shoulder and tried to think. "We have proof, though. Smee said _his_ name." She could feel David shaking his head as he answered her. "No, he didn't. All he got out was 'Mr.,' and that's literally half the population of Storybrooke, Emma."

Emma pulled away from him and walked to the other side of her office. She looked out through the glass and saw Gold sitting in his cell, hands folded in his lap. She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then you have to be the one to tell him. Because I can't." She walked over to a chair and threw herself down in it, putting her elbows on her knees and resting her head in her hands. "I just can't." David's heart broke when he heard the defeated tone in his daughter's voice. Emma could hear the shuffling of his feet as he approached her. He kissed her gently on the top of her head before leaving her office.

She heard the jingling of keys and the creaking of the cell door as David explained to Gold that he was free to go. Next, Emma heard the sound of Gold's cane clicking against the linoleum floor. She looked up to see Mr. Gold standing in the open door of her office wearing a smile of smug satisfaction. "Have a good evening, Sheriff." She fought the urge to tear that smile off of his face as he turned and left the station.

* * *

Emma had had a hard day and wanted nothing more than to go back to her apartment and forget about everything. She really shouldn't have been surprised by the developments in Gold's case. She was way too eager and had jumped the gun. She was angry at herself for not taking a minute to think the situation through.

For some reason, this turn of events was hitting her really hard. She locked up the station and stepped out into the cool Maine air. Emma had been so distracted by her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed when Killian caught up to her and started walking alongside her. "Rough day, Sheriff?" Hearing his voice, Emma was startled, almost jumping backwards at the sudden intrusion. "Jones. Where the hell did you come from?"

He smiled. "I've actually been walking beside you for a few paces, now. You only just noticed." She hadn't realized that she'd been that deep in thought, but decided not to question it. "I did ask you a question, though, Sheriff."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She suddenly felt flustered as her cheeks began to glow bright red. "Could you repeat it?" He nodded and cleared his throat. "I had asked if you were having a rough day."

She raised an eyebrow, sidestepping a puddle in the sidewalk as they passed it. "What would make you think I was having a rough day?" Killian shook his head. "You must take me for a fool, Sheriff. I can tell when a person is not feeling themselves. Call it a superpower." Emma snorted at his words. "A superpower? Really? Thanks for your concern, Killian. But it's not actually that big a deal." He sighed loudly, and looked at her. "Come on, now, Sheriff. Don't be that way. I can tell something is the matter, and you'd probably feel better if you only talked about it."

She looked into his eyes, and saw something that she hadn't expected: a certain openness that caught her off-guard. Her steps faltered until she came to a complete stop. He stood in front of her, still waiting on an answer. "It's just this case that I'm working on." She sighed as it suddenly became difficult to look him in the eye. Instead, she stared over his shoulder, hoping he couldn't tell how desperately she was avoiding his gaze. "I thought that I had it under control. Open and shut. But I was too eager, and now instead of moving forward, I'm back to square one."

Killian thought for a moment before he spoke. "Well, while I can admit that that does sound frustrating, I'd say it's hardly an issue for someone like you, Sheriff." Emma raised her eyebrows at him and opened her mouth to protest. "Hold on, let me finish. I will admit that I don't have much experience with your line of work, but these sort of technicalities often take care of themselves. All you need to do is keep an eye on it. And when the opportunity for battle presents itself again, you'll be prepared, bases covered, ready for action. Whatever issue you have, you will work it out. I've the utmost faith in you, Emma."

Hearing him call her by her name caught her by surprise, and she almost smiled. _Almost._ "Thanks, Jones." He smiled and resumed their walk again.

"Any time, Sheriff." He suddenly felt the urge to put his arm around her, to comfort her further. He suppressed it, along with the voices in his head telling him to invite her back to his place, or out for a drink. _"Some other time." _He thought to himself. Because tonight, he had some reading to do.

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**D'aww, isn't that sweet? A pep talk from a pirate.**

**I just wanted to let you guys know that I am starting a new multi-chapter fic. It's a Captain-Swan-in-high-school AU, and I'm really excited about it. I hope that you guys decide to check it out. I've never worked on two stories at once before, but I don't imagine that there would be any kind of conflict. **

**Thank you for reading, and don't forget to tell me what you think, or ask me any questions you may have. **

**S****ee you next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: As always, I would like to thank everyone who read/reviewed/followed/favorited! Keep up the great work!**

**Also, sorry this update took so long!**

* * *

Killian hadn't really left his apartment much in the days since receiving Henry's book. It took him just over two days to read the entire thing from cover to cover.

The stories in the book were fairytales, just like Henry said that they would be, but the stories weren't exactly like the fairytales that Killian remembered reading as a child. For instance, Snow White and Prince Charming were parents, and they had a baby girl named Emma. He read and reread the stories, enthralled by the way that each connected with the others. He wanted to talk to Henry about the book, but hadn't seen him or the sheriff since the day Henry had given him the book. He'd overheard that she had left town with Mr. Gold, of all people, to go to New York City. Killian wondered what on earth would possess them to take such a curious field trip.

After spending the whole weekend locked away in his apartment, Killian decided to take a walk down to the docks. Whenever he needed to clear his head, the docks always seemed like the perfect place to go. He sat on the bench facing the water, letting the wind whip around him as his mind wandered. He stared out at the open water and felt a longing in the pit of his chest, something that surprised him. He felt the sudden urge to be free, to explore. A feeling that was at once sudden and strange, yet familiar and inviting.

Killian leaned further into the back of the bench, staring outward as the sun caused sparkling ribbons of light to dance across the cerulean expanse of ocean. His mind wandered to Sheriff Emma, something that seemed to be happening far more frequently than he'd like to admit. He thought of the soft waves in her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, the sway of her hips as she walked by his side, the brief smile he was sure that he saw on her lips when he'd spoken her name. _Emma._ He felt a flutter in his chest when he'd spoken it, which, paired with the feeling of her green eyes looking up at him, was almost too intense.

In that moment, Killian decided that he had feelings for Sheriff Emma. Feelings of what exactly, he wasn't sure. But he knew that as soon as he'd heard of her return, he would seek her out, and talk with her. It was probably going to be a bloody awkward conversation, but he had to tell her how he felt. How he thought of her every morning when he awoke, and every night before closing his eyes. Well, maybe he wouldn't tell her _all_ of that, but he still wanted to tell her how he felt.

He'd been having these feelings since leaving the hospital all those weeks ago, but initially brushed it off as a passing infatuation. Emma was unlike any woman he had ever known before. She challenged him and kept him on his toes. Although he hadn't seen much of her recently, he could tell that she felt something for him, too. He wasn't sure she would ever admit it, but he knew it was there. Even if it were just a physical attraction, he could make it work– for now.

"How you doin', Jones?"

A gruff and somewhat angry voice pulled Killian out of his reverie. He turned his head to the side to see that he was being approached by Leroy. Ever since he'd started spending time at the docks, Killian had been interacting more and more the the curious little man. He smiled politely and gave a nod. "Hello, Leroy."

Leroy sat on the bench next to Killian and looked out on the water. "You feelin' okay, man?"

Killian cocked an eyebrow at Leroy. "You actually care?"

Leroy looked impatient and gave a curt shrug. "It never hurts to have somebody to talk to."

Killian scratched his chin and closed his eyes. "I'm fine." They sat in silence for a few moments before he turned his head to look and Leroy again. "Thanks, though."

"No problem. I know you've been havin' a rough couple of weeks, and I also know that it's not always so easy to be on the outside lookin' in."

Leroy looked at Killian, who was still trying to figure out why Leroy was suddenly being so... _nice_.

"Well, you've got that right. Almost every person in this town either ignores me or avoids me. As far as I can remember, I've not done anything to deserve such treatment. I can count my only friends in this town on one hand."

Leroy raised an eyebrow. "Was that supposed to be funny?"

Killian cracked a tiny smile and shook his head. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

Leroy sighed and leaned back against the bench. "I sure do, pal. Probably better than anyone in this whole damned town."

Killian thought about Leroy's words. It felt nice to be able to commiserate with someone even if it was someone that he barely knew. They talked idly for a few more minutes, after which Leroy rose from the bench.

"Well, I gotta get goin'. See you 'round, buddy."

As Leroy walked off, Killian wondered what had just happened. The more he thought about it, the more confident he felt that yes, he had indeed just made a new friend.

He sat in solitary silence for what felt like an eternity before he could hear somebody running up behind him, and was surprised when he felt two small arms thrown around him from behind.

"Killian!"

He turned around to see Henry beaming at him and panting heavily from the run. Killian smiled brilliantly and ruffled the boy's hair. "Henry, how are you, lad? I haven't seen you in a few days."

Henry walked around the bench and sat beside Killian, still trying to catch his breath. "I went–" Pant, pant. "to New York–" Pant, pant. "with Mr. Gold–" Pant, pant. "and my mom." Henry sighed heavily as he completed his statement, breathing deeply in and out as he leaned back against the bench.

Killian was confused, and raised an eyebrow. "Your mother? She was here all weekend. I saw her more than a few times, lad."

Henry sat up, having mostly caught his breath, and shook his head. "No, my other mom."

Killian's confusion only grew as he knitted his brow. "Alright, now I'm completely lost."

Henry looked at Killian, and suddenly raised both his eyebrows as if he'd remembered something. "Oh, that's right. You don't know. The sheriff is my other mom."

Killian wasn't sure if Henry was being serious, and looked at him sternly. "Now, Henry. I will not be played with. Explain yourself, lad." Henry sighed heavily before speaking again. "Well, I'm sure you know that my mother, Regina, adopted me when I was a baby, right?" Killian nodded absently, having a vague memory of that fact. "Yes." Henry exhaled before continuing. "Well, Sheriff Emma is the one who gave birth to me." He let his statement hang in the air for a moment before he spoke again. "Killian? Are you still confused? I don't know how else to explain it..."

Killian smiled weakly and shook his head. "No, lad. I understand." Henry knitted his brow. "Then how come you look so lost?" Killian looked at Henry and was becoming more and more aware of their age difference as Henry bombarded him with questions. "Is it because you're surprised? Or maybe you're wondering what happened to my dad? Is it because you like her?"

Killian tried to combat the burning in his cheeks as he looked at Henry again. "Well, since you mentioned it, what happened to your father?"

The smile returned to Henry's face. "We found him."

Killian looked at Henry, somewhat perturbed by his cryptic words. "You what?"

"Oh, sorry. We went to New York to help Mr. Gold find his son. And when we found him, he turned out to be my dad. Pretty crazy, huh?"

Killian's mind was flooded with questions. Questions that he decided to file away for a later date. "Well, isn't that nice?" Killian hoped that Henry wouldn't pick up on the sarcastic edge to his voice. He has feeling something strange in the pit of his stomach, and it felt oddly akin to jealousy.

* * *

**Don't kill me! I know that this chapter was short, but the next one will be well worth the teasing! I promise that your patience will be rewarded!**

**Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/favorited!**

**CherryMountain: Your wish is my command, love.**

* * *

Emma had been sitting at the desk in her office doing paperwork for the majority of the day. She had no problem with that, especially since the only case she had to work on kept sending her on a series of wild goose chases. Mr. Gold had truly taken every precaution to cover his tracks. But in all honestly, as the days passed by, Emma was beginning to care less about punishing Gold, and more about returning Killian to his original self.

It was about fifteen minutes to lunchtime when she heard the door to the sheriff's station open and shut forcefully.

She heard determined footsteps coming in her direction, and put her paperwork aside to attend to whomever was about to walk into her office. When Leroy approached the open door, he knocked on its frame before letting himself in. He closed the distance between the door and the desk, sitting down in a chair across from Emma.

"Hey, Sheriff. I've got something I need to say to you."

Emma leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "What's on your mind, Leroy?"

"It's about Hook."

Hearing Leroy's words, Emma had to fight to keep her facial expression neutral. She raised an eyebrow and straightened up in her chair. "What about Hook?"

"This is gonna sound... weird," he began, looking at Emma warily, "but over the past few weeks he and I have begun some sort of... acquaintanceship."

Emma looked at Leroy blankly, trying to guess where this conversation was headed. "You mean you made friends with him? Is that what you're saying?"

Leroy shook his head. "No, no, no. It's nothin' like that. I just see him on the docks from time to time, and when I do, I say hello because I know that everyone else in this damned town ignores him."

Emma sighed, still trying to guess what Leroy was playing at. "Okay, and what does your non-friendship have to do with me?"

Leroy's expression softened into a look that Emma had never seen on him before. "I see him everyday walkin' around town, always keepin' to himself and bein' real polite. That's not the real him, Emma. He's hurtin'. And I hate having to pretend to be Leroy all the damned time. It's exhausting. I think we oughtta tell him the truth."

Emma's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "The _truth_?"

"Yeah, the truth. That he's cursed. Maybe it'll snap him out of it."

Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can_not_ be serious, Leroy."

Leroy stood from the chair now, his brow knitted in frustration. "And why can't I?

"Be realistic," she started, rising to stand as well, "if somebody had told you before Regina's curse broke that you were Grumpy the dwarf, would you have believed them?"

Leroy looked at her, his face unchanging. "No, probably not. But this guy is unhappy here, Emma. You have to do something, it's like you don't even care."

Emma was struggling to keep her voice from raising. Who did Leroy think he was talking to? Of course she cared. She more than cared. She _cared_. Not just about the curse, but about the man suffering through it.

She sighed before speaking again. "If he were still Captain Hook you wouldn't give a damn."

Leroy's frustration was starting to boil over as he tried to keep his voice level. "If we were still Captain Hook, we wouldn't be in this mess! He needs to know."

Emma rounded her desk so that she could stand toe-to-toe with the dwarf. "Okay, so you want to tell him. Then what, Leroy? Do you realize what could happen if he gets spooked? He'll leave."

Leroy shrugged his shoulders. "At least he'd be happy."

Emma raised her eyebrows and threw her hands over her face, shaking her head. "What are you, his fairy godmother?" She leaned in closer and lowered her voice to a tone that was equally authoritative and menacing. "If he leaves, he could tell. About the town. About all of _you_. Then what happens, Leroy?"

The way that Leroy changed from determined to dumbstruck told Emma that he clearly had not considered that possibility. She turned her back to him and returned to her seat. "That's what I thought. Yes, this is a problem. And no, I don't know what to do right now, but I'll figure it out. And if you even so much as breathe a word about the curse to Hook, I will gladly point the angry mob in your direction when he tells the rest of the world about this place."

Leroy sighed and let himself out of her office, and she waited until she heard the station door slam before she laid her head down on her desk, exhausted.

* * *

When it finally came time for her to go home, Emma locked up the station and started the walk back to her apartment. She had only taken few steps before she was approached from behind.

"Hey, Emma."

She had to fight the urge to cringe as Neal walked up to her, keeping pace with her as she tried to walk away.

"What is it, Neal?"

Neal stopped walking and grabbed Emma by the elbow, turning her to face him. "I think we should talk. About us, and Henry. About our family."

Emma shook her head at Neal and tucked her bangs behind her ear. "No. Not now, Neal. Maybe not ever."

A confused look crossed Neal's face as he quirked an eyebrow up at her. "Not _ever_? What is that supposed to mean, Emma? Why would you say that?"

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned in exasperation. "That wasn't a serious question, was it, Neal? Really? You gave up any chance that you had at being a part of my life eleven years ago." She took a few steps backwards, preparing to go. "And that's all I have to say about that." She turned and left Neal standing alone as he watched her walk away.

Seriously, who did he even think that he was? Coming into her life after all this time and trying to claim her as if she were his property? Emma was definitely having none of that and was going to make sure that he knew exactly how she felt on the subject.

However, thinking about Neal was only serving to worsen her mood. So, instead of going home to her empty apartment, she decided to stop by the Rabbit Hole for a quick drink.

She walked into the bar, and was instantly relaxed by the atmosphere. With the dimmed lights, the music, and all of the chatter from the other patrons, it would be very easy for her to go unnoticed here. Just for a little while.

Emma slipped into a booth toward the back of the bar, and within minutes the bartender brought her her usual: a double shot of whiskey, on the rocks. She tried to smile appreciatively at the man, but she was sure it came out looking more like a pained grimace. He seemed to get the hint however, giving a small nod and smiling politely at her before he turned away.

From where she was seated, Emma was facing the rest of the bar. She had the perfect spot to just sit and watch the other patrons as she lazily sipped her drink. If she were being honest, she'd admit that she really only came to watch the crowd. It's not like she didn't have any whiskey at home. She'd watch the dwarves play pool, she'd watch the bartender mix drinks, and she had an excellent view of the door, which was great when she wanted to see who was coming in and out. She brought the glass to her lips and took another sip of her drink, basking in the slight burning in her throat after she swallowed.

She looked out across the room again, and brought her eyes back to the door just in time to see Hook walk through it. _"No, dammit. Not him. Not here. Not tonight. Why me?" _She groaned inwardly at the sight of him. Emma had been avoiding Hook ever since she had returned from New York. It wasn't intentional at first, but the longer she stayed away from him, the clearer her head felt. She had very conflicting emotions when it came to him, and she found it was much easier to run from them. David told her that Hook had even left her a few messages at the station, which she couldn't even bring herself to listen to.

Hook stepped further into the bar, taking off his leather jacket to hang it on the rack. Underneath, she saw that he wore a dark grey zip-up hoodie. It was only zipped about halfway, and underneath it he wore a white v-neck tee shirt. The cut of the shirt wasn't anything too dramatic, but, of course, it was just enough to show off his usual combination of silver pendants and dark chest hair.

Emma rolled her eyes a bit, not that the sight wasn't an attractive one, it certainly was. Maybe that was why she rolled her eyes. For fawning over him like a hormonal teenaged girl. She had been thinking about Hook a lot since coming back from New York. She hadn't seen him since then, and that was _weeks_ ago. She'd missed him. She'd missed the innuendoes and the flirtation and the constant attraction and even the way he got a little flustered and nervous around her, even though she was sure he didn't think she'd noticed. She laughed a little at the thought. But then the laughter faded from her face when she realized something: she'd been _thinking about Hook._ When did that happen? Honestly, all of the time. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone. Not even to herself.

In the time that Emma had been lost in her own thoughts, Hook had made his way through the room, only stopping to talk with Leroy for a minute, and had taken a seat at the bar. From where she was seated, she had to turn her head to look at him, but she didn't want to seem obvious. But she _really_ wanted to look at him. So, she did.

She turned her head to look at him, and he wasn't looking at her, to her relief. Emma watched his lips move as he muttered something to himself, and she wondered what he was saying. She watched the way he brought his drink to his mouth, taking a small sip and then licking his lips after. Emma felt a tingle run down her spine at the action, and quickly turned her gaze away. _"God, Emma, what has gotten into you?"_ She chastised herself internally. _"You are letting this man reduce you to nothing more than a schoolgirl with a crush. Knock it off."_ She took another sip of her drink to distract herself, but before she could even control it, she'd turned her head to look at him again. That time, it was a definite mistake.

Emma turned to see Hook was already watching her with a somewhat faraway look in his eye. She tried to keep her expression calm, and offered a small smile before looking away. She had been staring blankly at the seat in front of her for a few minutes when he slipped into it.

* * *

When Killian entered the Rabbit Hole, it had been to forget about Sheriff Swan. He had been thinking about her incessantly and was willing to do anything to make it stop. Getting piss drunk was usually his last resort, but after he noticed that Emma was avoiding him it somehow moved its way up the list. Fancy that.

He walked in the bar and was greeted with the sight of Leroy and his mates standing around the pool table. He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the rack, and walked over to say hello to his friend.

Leroy nodded his head in greeting. "How's it hangin', buddy?"

Killian clapped Leroy on the back with a smile. "Isn't that a bit of a personal question, Leroy?"

Leroy grunted (which Killian had accepted as Leroy's own form of laughter), and shook his head. "We're about to rack 'em. You want in?"

Killian shook his head. "Not tonight, mate. I can practically hear the rum calling my name."

Leroy shrugged and settled against the pool table to take his first shot. "Suit yourself, man. See you later."

Killian left the group and took his usual seat at the bar. He'd been coming to the Rabbit Hole infrequently over the past few weeks, but the bartender always seemed to know what he was there for. After a moment, he was presented with his drink and he nodded gratefully at the man.

He had been staring into space when he noticed something on the periphery of his vision. Or some_one_, rather. "Of course she's here. Why wouldn't she be here?" He muttered to himself as he took a sip of his drink.

She had every right to be here. This _was_ her town, after all. Why was he even angry? Maybe he just wasn't looking forward to seeing her since he'd finally admitted to himself that he had feelings for her. Or maybe it was the fact that she'd been avoiding him for the past twenty-two days. Maybe it was the fact that he actually _counted the days_ since she'd returned from New York, just waiting for her to give him a second of her time.

He turned his head to look at her, and felt a clenching in his chest. Damn it all. Did she have to look so perfect all the time? Her blond hair was neatly over one shoulder, which gave him an enticing view of the fair skin covering her neck and chest. Gods, what he wouldn't give for a night alone with her. Or even an hour. Who was he kidding? He'd take a minute alone with her and make it the happiest minute of her life.

His inner monologue was interrupted when she turned her head and met his gaze. His heart skipped a beat, and he was certain that after noticing him, she would get up and leave. Or at least turn away and continue ignoring him. But she didn't. Instead she smiled at him. She _smiled_. It was a small one, but that was more than alright with him. It was progress. She looked away again, and Killian turned back to his drink. Thinking about her also made him feel slightly angry. He wanted to know what he'd done to drive her away. Before he'd even realized it, he had risen from his stool and was walking over to Emma's booth.

He sat down across from her, and looked her in the eye. "Good evening, Sheriff."

Emma gave him a tight smile and nodded. "How are you, Killian?"

He raised an eyebrow and leaned ever so slightly forward on his elbows. "Do you really want to know, Sheriff? Because it seems to me that if you did, you could have had the decency to stop by my apartment, or return my phone calls, or even smile at me on the street, for God's sake."

Emma raised her eyebrows at him, honestly surprised at his sudden brush of anger. "Look, Killian, I—"

"Oh, no, Sheriff. You've had twenty-two days to talk to me. Now, I'm through waiting."

Emma nodded at him, urging him to continue even though she was not looking forward to hearing that he had to say.

"Sheriff, I'm wondering if I have said or done something wrong to make you want to stay away from me. Granted, I may have been a little flirtatious with you in the past, but I'm nothing if not a gentleman and I can assure that if I've said anything to offend you, I am truly sorry." He searched her face, looking for any confirmation that may lie therein, but came up empty.

"Okay, maybe I haven't said anything. Did I do something?" Again, she remained silent, her only communication a slight shaking of her head. "Then what is it? Are you just going to turn your back on me like the rest of this bloody town? I would expect this sort of treatment from anybody else. But not from you, Emma. I thought we were friends."

He watched her in silence for a few seconds before he realized that she wasn't going to say anything. He nodded and rose from the booth. "I realize now that I thought wrong. Goodnight, Sheriff."

Emma watched him with a lump in her throat as he walked away and put a few bills down on the bar before heading over to the door and walking out, leather jacket in hand.

She tossed back her drink and left money on the table before grabbing her jacket and following him out into the night.

* * *

**Aw, poor Killian. All crestfallen and whatnot. You know what? A review just might make him feel better.**

**But that's only a hunch. **

**See you lot next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/favorited!**

**This chapter was a fucking struggle! I went through so much trying to write it! Not to mention the fact that I accidentally deleted over six hundred words of it and _didn't fucking realize_. So, please. Be gentle. **

**Also, the rating went up!**

* * *

Emma awoke slowly to find she had a splitting headache. She shifted onto her side in hopes of finding a more comfortable position.

She remained in peaceful silence for a few moments before she felt a shift in the bed behind her. Her eyes snapped open as a very muscular arm draped itself over her waist.

Trying her best to keep calm, she opened her eyes wider and looked around her room. Only, this wasn't her room. The blue painted walls and the black sheets on the bed told her exactly who the room belonged to: Hook.

Although she was screaming and freaking out inwardly, Emma rolled over to look at the man sleeping behind her, hoping that maybe looking at him would somehow help to jog her memory. _"God, How much did I have to drink last night?" _She thought to herself as she roved over his face with her eyes, letting them linger on a reddish-purple mark just over his collarbone. Emma winced at the sight of the hickey. _"Oh my god, I must have been totally wasted."_

Or, at least, she hoped she was.

She peeled herself out of his embrace and slipped back into her underwear and a tee shirt she'd grabbed from one of his drawers before slipping out of the room and into the bathroom. The clock on the wall read 5:14.

She closed down the lid of the toilet and sat on it with her knees spread and elbows balanced on them as she rested her head in her hands.

She sat in silence for a few moments before the memories of the previous night came flooding back to her in a tidal wave.

* * *

After Killian tried to leave her at the Rabbit Hole, Emma followed him out, intent on explaining herself.

_"Killian! Wait!" Emma was jogging behind him, trying to keep pace with him as he'd already gotten a significant head start._

_"Don't you want to hear my side of this?"_

_Killian stopped abruptly, turning to look her in the face. "Your side? Really? Why would I want to hear that?" He turned away before she could respond and continued his escape._

_Emma sighed, determined not to let him get away. "Because, like you said, we are friends. And I would like for us to stay that way, so please just—"_

_"And did you ever take a second to think about what I would like, Sheriff?" He turned around again, looking at her with a raised eyebrow._

_Emma was dumbstruck and shook her head at him as he continued to pierce her with his eyes._

_"Maybe being friends isn't enough for me." Killian sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "I know that this may sound crazy to you, Sheriff. But I have feelings for you. I haven't the slightest idea how the bloody hell it happened, but it did. And I can't ignore them anymore. Not after I've thought about nothing but you everyday for the past three weeks. It's driving me mad. Knowing that you were so close, yet so unattainable. Realizing that you were purposefully avoiding me was just the icing on the cake, sweetheart. Did you even stop for a bloody second to think about how that would make me feel? How much I might have missed you? How foolish I feel for thinking that—" Killian stopped talking and clamped his mouth shut, taking a few backward steps away from her._

_"Thinking that what?" Emma could feel tears brimming in her eyes as she looked at him._

_"Forget it, Sheriff. See you around."_

_Instead of letting him leave, Emma grabbed him by the elbow and turned him around, putting both her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Hell, no. I'm not forgetting a damned thing. I have something to say to you and you are gonna hear it, or so help me God I will—"_

_"Just get on with it, Sheriff." Killian groaned, not bothering to look her in the eyes._

_Emma's angry expression faltered slightly. She was caught off-guard by the dismissive tone in his voice. "You aren't the only one who's hurting, here. I've missed you too, okay? The stupid innuendos, the flirtation, the way you always know what I'm thinking..." She trailed off as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She released him and turned away so that she could wipe her eyes without him seeing._

_"I wasn't staying away to hurt you, Killian. I was trying to protect you."_

_Killian felt a pang of guilt shoot through his heart when he heard the tremble in her voice and took a step closer to her. "Protect me? From what?"_

_Emma shook her head at him, turning around to look him in the eye. "Not what. Who."_

_Killian's eyes searched hers as he waited for her to elaborate. "Emma... I'm afraid you've lost me."_

_She sighed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, averting her gaze from his. "From me, Killian. I was trying to protect you from me. I'm no good at..." she motioned between them, unsure of what to say, "this. I don't know how to 'be with' someone and I don't know how to let people in. Not anymore, at least."_

_He walked closer to her and took one of her hands in his. "Emma, I don't want to force anything on you. But I do have feelings for you. Although I'm not wholly sure what they are, I know that they are real. And strong." He released her hand so that he could use his thumb to wipe away the tears he saw were brimming in her eyes. "I'm only trying to ask that you give this a chance. Nothing more."_

_Emma tried to focus on his words; she could feel the emotion behind them. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply in, then out. "I think I can do that."_

_She opened her eyes to see Killian smiling brightly at her. She smiled back before she spoke. "So, what now?"_

_He gave her a devilish smirk, moving his arm to bring her closer by her waist and pulling her just a few steps forward. "Well, I think I have an idea..."_

_Emma felt her cheeks beginning to flush as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "Don't keep me in suspense."_

_Killian chuckled softly as he brought his face closer to hers. "Trust me, lass. That is the last thing I would want to do." His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips and back before he closed the distance between them._

_She reacted almost immediately, wrapping both her arms around his neck as he pulled her in a little closer to his body. His kiss was gentle and slow, but by no means shy as his hand trailed up and down her side. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, intent on never letting him get away. _

_As if he would dare._

_Time seemed to stand still in that moment. In her mind, it was only the two of them, together at last. She felt Killian sweep his tongue over her bottom lip, and she eagerly granted him entrance. She moved her arms to hold him by the waist, leaving no space between their bodies. He deepened the kiss as his hand came up to cup the side of her face. Emma moaned softly into his mouth when she felt him tug on her bottom lip with his teeth._

_She broke the kiss, leaning her forehead against his. They were both breathing heavily, the air coming out of their lungs in white clouds as they stood in the cold night air._

_"Killian, I..." She began, but she lost her train of thought. She couldn't think of anything to say, so instead of speaking, she decided to kiss him again._

_He kissed her briefly before leaning away from her so that he could look her in the eye. "Come home with me." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a command, either. To her, it sounded like a plea, or maybe a prayer. Or a song, set to music meant for her ears only._

_Emma felt her heart stutter when she heard him say the words. "Killian, I don't know if that's—"_

_"Emma, please." When she looked into his eyes, she could see the unbridled emotion kept there. There was no begging or coaxing, all she saw was another broken soul asking to be trusted. _

_She looked at him again, and she was sure that her face was now positively red. She nodded meekly and he smiled at her, taking her by the hand and leading her off in the direction of Granny's._

_When they made it up the stairs to his apartment, he leaned her up against the wall outside of his door, kissing her deeply and hungrily. She could feel his hand all over her body. It made a trail from her cheek to her neck, then past her ribs to rest on her hip. He moved it behind her to squeeze her ass, causing her to giggle involuntarily. He smiled against her lips and brought her leg up to hitch it over his waist._

_He moved his lips down to her neck and kissed it, using his tongue to taste her as he ground his hips softly against hers. She gasped, fisting his jacket in her hands. "Killian, the door?"_

_Killian gave her a confused look, as if he'd forgotten that they were making out like teenagers in the middle of the hallway. "Right. Sorry, love."_

_Emma sighed heavily when he finally released her so that he could unlock the door. He fumbled with the keys for a second before he managed to gain access and pull her inside._

_Killian slammed the door shut and then pushed her up against it, kissing her with a ravenous animosity that Emma had never felt before. He kissed her from her lips down to her chin, then to her neck, and then to her collarbone. She could feel his lips moving as he whispered reverent words into her skin._

_When he ran his tongue over her pulse point, Emma was certain that her heart had stopped. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed him, holding on for dear life. She felt him smile against her neck as he lifted her up, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist._

_When she did, he led them over to his couch and sat down on it with her sitting astride his lap._

_Emma pushed his leather jacket off of his shoulders, and he followed her lead, ridding her of her jacket as well. She smiled when she felt his hand under her shirt, drawing lazy circles into the skin on the small of her back._

_She moved for the zipper of his hoodie now, pulling it down slowly. He groaned when she reached her hands into his hoodie and scratched lightly at his chest and sides. He leaned forward and she pushed it off of his shoulders. Once it was off, Emma went for the hem of his tee shirt, and he held his arms up for her as she brought it over his head._

_She threw the shirt over her shoulder and kissed him briefly before moving down his neck. He moved his head over to give her better access. Emma kissed and sucked at his neck, enjoying the grunts and groans that were escaping his throat. She went down to his collarbone and stopped there, paying special attention to a little spot just above it. When she kissed it, she felt his breath catch. When she licked it, she heard him gasp. She sucked hard on it and his whole body jumped, arms coming tighter around her._

_"Lass, you ought to be more careful with where you leave your mark on me." He chuckled, suddenly breathing heavily._

_Emma shook her head and pulled her shirt off, unhooking her bra immediately after. Once again, she heard him gasp, but this time it made her feel slightly self-conscious._

_He trailed his hand up from her navel to the valley of her breasts, his lips following a similar path. He kissed her on the curve of each of her breasts, and he felt her body shudder. "Gods, Emma, you're so beautiful." He kissed her lips again she began to blush. Only this time, he could see that the redness reached much further beyond her face and neck._

_He chuckled into her chest, placing kisses all over the flushed skin. "Red truly is your color, darling."_

_Emma couldn't help but laugh with him at that, and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "You're an idiot."_

_Killian kissed her, smiling against her lips. "And I bet you wouldn't have me any other way."_

_Before she could rebut, he stood up, catching her completely by surprise and forcing her to wrap her arms and legs even tighter around him to avoid falling to the floor. As she pressed her chest into his, she could feel his chest hair rubbing against her sensitive nipples. The sensations caused her to squirm and she rubbed herself against the bulge in his jeans._

_Killian groaned into her ear, biting down softly on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "Emma, be careful of how you move, sweetheart."_

_Emma giggled, continuing her movements as she heard his breathing pick up. _

_"You know, for a Sheriff, you are awful at following orders, love."_

_She kissed him on the neck and tugged at his ear lobe with her teeth. "That's because I'm usually the one giving them."_

_Killian growled and kissed her fiercely as he kicked in his bedroom door. He threw her onto the bed and immediately went to work on his pants. She watched him with a lustful glint in her eye as he pulled them off and stood before her in only his boxer-briefs._

_Emma laid on her side, her head resting on her hand as she watched him walk closer to her. Her eyes fell from his face to his muscular shoulders and chest, and then to his abs and ever further south to his prominent erection. She licked her lips before she even realized that was doing it._

_"Mm." Killian growled as he finally reached the bed. "I take it you see something you like?" He crawled up the bed and leaned over her, an arm on either side of her._

_Emma nodded shyly, suddenly lacking the ability to speak. He leaned down and kissed her before moving his lips down her body. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, the valley of her breasts and her navel before kissing the skin about the waistband of her jeans._

_"These need to come off. Now." He muttered as he brought his hand down and flicked open the button before drawing the zipper down with his teeth. He motioned for her to take them off while he leaned off of her completely so that he could remove his prosthesis._

_Emma had completely forgotten about it and watched with rapt attention as he removed the glove and then the fake hand underneath it. _

_He noticed her staring and stopped his movements. "I could leave it on, if that's what you'd prefer..."_

_Emma blushed again and shook her head, sitting up to kiss him. "No, don't worry." She laid back down again and pulled her jeans off of her legs._

_Killian returned to her, prosthesis gone, and kissed her passionately. "Gods, Emma, you are a marvel."_

_She kissed him back, trying her damnedest to stop blushing. "Hardly."_

_He shook his head and resumed his previous activities, kissing the same trail down her body. He stopped at her underwear and moved so that he was completely between her legs. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses on both of her thighs before he turned his gaze to his original destination. _

_He kissed her through her panties and Emma felt a shockwave run straight through her. Her body arched toward his mouth. "Fuck, Killian."_

_He chuckled and pulled her panties off, tossing them onto the floor. "We'll get there, lass. Patience is a virtue and all that."_

_She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but she couldn't. She was completely transfixed, watching him with hooded eyes as he licked a solid stripe through her folds. She sighed as her body shivered, goosebumps raising all over her heated flesh._

_"Bloody hell, woman." He groaned. "You must really have missed me, huh?"_

_Emma grunted in response, placing her hand on the back of his head. "Shut up, Killian."_

_He chuckled softly against her skin. "I see now what you meant about giving orders. Quite commanding, lass." _

_Before she could respond again, he brought his mouth back to her core, drawing lazy circles around her bundle of nerves with his tongue. She was already writhing beneath him when he surprised her by plunging one finger, then another, into her. She cried out sharply at the intrusion. He moved them in time with his tongue, somehow falling into the perfect rhythm. His fingers brushed over that spot within her, causing her to bite down on her lip to keep from shouting again. She tried her utmost to keep her voice level._

_"Killian! Oh my god... Just like that." She was grinding her hips against his face and hand now, clearly desperate for release. She could feel herself about to fall over the edge when his fingers and mouth moved away from her._

_Emma abruptly raised her head to look at him, shooting him an angry death glare. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She demanded, trying not to sound as out of breath as she was._

_Killian only laughed at her as he stood and removed his underwear. "My, my, Sheriff. Did you miss what I said before about patience?"_

_He crawled up the bed until he was face-to-face with her once more. "Good things come to those who wait, love." He kissed her on the neck before kissing her soundly on the mouth, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. "And I have a feeling that this is going to be very, very good." He leaned on his left forearm and used his right hand to pisition himself at her entrance._

_As he finished his statement, he pushed into her, and they both groaned at the contact. He rested his forehead against hers, trying to get his bearings. He brought his other arm back up and leaned on both his forearms, hovering over her. "Bloody hell, Emma. You're so tight." He inhaled a shaky breath before moving his hips in, then out._

_Emma whimpered as he stretched her, the slight discomfort giving way to sheer pleasure. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she tried to get a handle on what she was feeling._

_Killian thrusted in and out a few more times before Emma cried out, causing him to stop completely. "What the matter, Emma? Am I hurting you?" His eyes looked concerned, but his voice was gruff and strained, and it sent a shiver down her spine._

_That all-too-familiar blush returned to her cheeks and ears and neck and chest as she shook her head at him. "No, it's just... been a while, I guess." She breathed out, looking up at him shyly._

_Killian smiled and gave her a kiss that was surprisingly innocent considering their current position. "We can stop if you want, you know. We don't have to—"_

_She put a finger to his lips to silence him. "Killian, don't worry. I'll be okay." She leaned up to kiss him, her fingers threading through his hair. "Just... go slow, okay?"_

_Killian tried to hide the shiver than ran down his spine at her words. He smiled at her and kissed her tenderly. He shifted over her, moving his arms in closer so that he could lay atop her without crushing her. Their bodies were touching completely and he prayed that she couldn't feel his heart beating out of control in his chest._

_He finally started to move again, going slowly, as she'd requested. He couldn't see her face as his was buried in her neck, but he heard her sigh, which he took as a good sign. Before too long, she wrapped her arms and her legs around him, holding him as close as possible. She was also grinding her hips against his, trying to maximize the friction._

_After a few minutes, Emma released his shoulders and pushed him back so that she could look him in the eye. "Killian, harder. Please."_

_Killian groaned at her words, and did as she'd commanded. He shifted back onto his forearms and began to move his hips faster, with more force. He felt her walls contract and start to flutter around him._

_Emma cried out again, but this time he could tell that it was for another reason. She scraped her fingernails across his back, and breathed into his ear. "Yes, Killian. Just like that. I'm so close."_

_He could feel the tension building, and he knew that his release was imminent. He brought his hand between them to where they were joined, and began to rub furious circles into her sensitive bud._

_That was all she could bear, her orgasm ripping through her a second later. Her walls gripped him tightly, and he continued to pump in and out of her until his hips started to stutter and he released himself deep within her._

_His arms wobbled and he let himself fall over her. He felt her hands tracing patterns into his back and he smiled against her neck. "Emma, am I too heavy?"_

_She shook her head. "No, I'm fine."_

_He chuckled then. "Good. Because I don't think I can bloody move."_

_She laughed with him and kissed him on the shoulder. "Me either."_

_They laid like that for a few minutes before he finally rolled off of her, pulling her with him. He settled onto his back and she curled into his side. She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around his torso._

_"Emma, what does this mean for us?"_

_She hadn't expected him not to say anything, but she wasn't exactly ready for this line of questioning. "What do you say we talk about it in the morning?" She knew that it was a cop-out, but she hoped that it would buy her some time._

_He grabbed her hand with his and kissed it before placing it over his heart. "Aye. Tomorrow it is, then." He breathed deeply in, then out. _

_Emma could tell that he was already on the verge of sleep. She reached for the blankets and pulled them up to cover their bodies. She rolled onto her side and pulled him so that he could wrap his arm around her. He got the hint and snuggled in closely behind her, kissing her on the back of the head. "Sweet dreams, Emma."_

_She smiled, suddenly fighting the urge to cry. "Sweet dreams, Killian."_

* * *

Emma sat up on the toilet and ran her hands through her hair.

She breathed in and out deeply before deciding to go back into the bedroom. She didn't really feel the urge to leave, which surprised her. She felt ten times better now that she actually remembered the previous night fully.

She tiptoed across the floor of the room, trying her best not to make too much noise and wake him up. She sat down on the bed, and rolled back into position under the covers. It appeared that he hadn't moved since she left for the bathroom.

She inched backwards, moving in closer to his still-naked body. He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and wrapped his arm around her again, pulling her flush against him.

Emma sighed, placing her arm over his and lacing their fingers together. He moved his left arm under her head and nuzzled into the back of her neck. She fought the urge to giggle as his nose tickled her neck, deciding to try and go back to sleep.

Whatever it was that had happened between them, it didn't feel wrong. And that may not seem like much, but for Emma Swan, it was certainly a start.

* * *

**I don't know, man. There's just something about conflict resolution that puts people in the mood. **

**Sorry, I'm weird. **

**Don't forget to review, and see you lot next chapter!**

**And in case anybody was wondering (although I'm not sure why you would), that opening Author's Note was written while I was still very angry at my shitty computer. **

**Technology, amirite?**


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